


Citizen of the World

by dellaxstreet



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Allusions to Fantastic Beasts, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Christmas Fluff, Erik has Issues, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, M/M, Matchmaker Dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8828365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dellaxstreet/pseuds/dellaxstreet
Summary: “There will be people who try to tell you we ought to dislike one another because of our house’s founders. They had a falling-out, oh, a thousand years ago? But I try not to form my opinions based on what dead men tell me to do. I’d have no fun at all that way.”
A Hogwarts AU in which Erik is forced to become their newest transfer student over Christmas break after Shaw is horrific per usual, and meets the Xavier siblings in the process.





	1. Here's Looking At You

The castle was, generally speaking, deserted enough over Christmas holidays that Charles was accustomed to quiet, a fact that he had come to be grateful for. Which was why, as he descended the stairs toward the Great Hall, the sound of the Headmaster’s voice joined by a stranger’s were so startling that he utterly forgot to look where he was going. The trick step was easily avoided if you remembered, but if you didn’t, good luck getting out again on your own any time soon.

What caught him first was the conversation, echoing off the ceiling. “I know that the adjustment may be very difficult, but there are fewer students in the castle at the moment, and of those who are, I’m certain you’ll find there are those more than willing to offer you their help...”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Stiff, polite, closed-off. A student?

And then his thoughts slammed into Charles like an unforgiving tidal wave, making him yelp without even meaning to as the boy and Professor Dumbledore drew nearer, entirely giving himself away. Some of it was entirely funny, with the boy – Erik – wondering why on earth anyone had bothered to stick him up in the Arctic Circle for so long if there was a well-lit castle which was properly ventilated down here all along, and thinking about the Giant Squid’s total scientific impossibility, because freshwater squid didn’t exist.

But some of it… some of it was worry over being taken out of Durmstrang over what had been done to him, and then a flash of memory that made Charles’s stomach clench tightly, in equal parts empathy and pain. He had a sense of what it was like to have someone whom you were supposed to be able to trust hurt you, as the numerous Howlers every time he and Raven received each time they refused to come home over holidays could attest, but this…

How could anyone hurt a child because they _wanted_ to induce more desperation and fear inside of them? How could anyone do that just to feed a darkness they’d helped create? It was cruelty beyond imagining.

He shouldn’t know this. He couldn’t help but hear.

There was a look on Erik’s face as he stared up the staircase like he suspected that Charles was listening, until his pale gaze flickered down to where one foot was sunk deep into the trick step. “Are you all right?”

Mouth curling into a smile, he nodded. “I might need a hand, that’s all. You’d think after this long I’d count the steps right on the way down, but I wasn’t expecting newcomers over Christmas. You _are_ new, aren’t you?”

The Headmaster motioned Erik forward and together they both climbed the stairs to take one of Charles’s arms and pull him free, while the older man chuckled softly. “This castle always finds ways to surprise me, no matter how long I’ve been here. I have simply accepted my fate. Mr. Lehnsherr, may I present Charles Xavier, of Slytherin House – and Mr. Xavier, this is Erik Lehnsherr, who has just been sorted into Gryffindor. He comes to us from Durmstrang.”

The quiet, flinty-eyed boy looked a bit silent and stoic for a lion on the outside, but his mind rankled with biting humor. They shook hands perfunctorily, of course, but Charles had decided he liked him already. “There will be people who try to tell you we ought to dislike one another because of our house’s founders. They had a falling-out, oh, a thousand years ago? But I try not to form my opinions based on what dead men tell me to do. I’d have no fun at all that way.” He winked at Erik, and then cleared his throat. “Professor.”

To his utter shock, Dumbledore offered him a wink of his own. “If you wouldn’t mind showing Mr. Lehnsherr around the castle a bit before dinner, I think he could use a chance to get more acclimated, don’t you think? That will be all.” Then he turned and strode off down the stairs, leaving Charles to stare after him.

Erik was thinking, quite plainly, that their Headmaster was insane.

“Oh no, he’s not insane. He’s been rumored to be, but I think he’s quite sane. He just likes to keep people on their toes. I mean, the Minister and half the people working in our government are terrified Dumbledore’s going to wake up one day and decide ‘I think I’ll depose everyone and take over’ because he’s powerful enough to do it, never mind that he single-handedly locked up the wizarding equivalent of _Hitler_ once. But then again, most wizards don’t know basic concepts of world history or science either, so...”

Charles trailed off. Erik was staring at him, alarmed, like he was about to back away at any moment. “I didn’t say that out loud.”

“No. You didn’t. Sorry, I forgot to warn you – I’m a Legilimens.” He didn’t have to be a mind reader to read the expression which resulted, and immediately said, “I couldn’t help it when I was younger, but for anyone truly _worried_ about being overheard, I’ve been directing them to the Headmaster for help with Occlumency lately. It takes discipline, so you have to be fifth year at least, but we’re sixth. Not a problem for you, I’d imagine, discipline?”

Now he was being studied warily. “You’re nothing like the last Legilimens I met.”

Nodding up the staircase, Charles started to walk, leading the way toward Gryffindor Tower. “What was the last Legilimens you met like, then? I’m honestly curious. Mostly it’s an art which wizards have to learn, or so I’m told… to be born able to do it naturally, it takes a tremendous amount of power. And a tremendous amount of overhearing things you either don’t want to, shouldn’t have a right to, or assure people you weren’t trying to thereafter.”

For a few long moments, Erik said nothing at all. And then he continued saying nothing at all, but he began to think clearly, of a blonde girl, whose demeanor was icy even in the fleeting impressions which Charles could gain of her, haughty and pretty but who had not, he saw, as another memory unfolded, stopped at just listening and being slyly amused. She had never been caught, given her skill, but he felt for a moment a sensation like having his own will brought to bear under a thousand tons of rock and suddenly understood. Some of the classmates at Durmstrang went far beyond the pale.

“That’s _very_ dark magic. I think anyone inclined so cruelly could try… but I wouldn’t.”

Something passed over Erik’s face then, first a flicker of disbelief – possibly filed under the portions of him which questioned whether or not he could trust this answer, but the fact that it had been given at all seemed to have made a significant impression. “You are different, then.” He paused. “That, and I suspect your wardrobe is different.”

Charles barked out a laugh. “Oh?”

“She was oddly partial to revealing clothing, despite the fact that Durmstrang is never warm enough. I always wondered if she were descended from an ice giant of some kind. Either that, or she was naturally cold-blooded. And you would probably wear more than one color.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, I am partial to blue –”

As if on cue, a figure darted around the corner, draping an arm around his neck. Raven was electric blue today, head to toe, and seemed to be enjoying occasionally sporting the non-flesh-tone look because it pointed out that there was no school rule which pointed out that students must be one particular color in order to attend class owing to incidents with dragon pox of yore. “Are you now, Charles? I didn’t know you cared.”

Erik blinked rapidly. “There are blue students here?”

“Even better. My blue _sister_ attends here. She’s your housemate, actually – as of now. Raven, this is Erik Lehnsherr, he’s just arrived from Durmstrang. As a result of his arrival, I got Dumbledore to wink at me, so I think it’s been a very successful day, don’t you?”

Raven held out a hand, grinning. “I’m not always blue. I was green yesterday. Spotted the day before. I tried stripes last week, but everyone got dizzy. Nice to meet you! Metamorphmagus, before you hurt yourself.”

Erik’s gaze slid from one Xavier to the other, and then he shook the hand she’d offered, thinking to himself that if a vampire or a werewolf jumped out of a suit of armor and claimed to be a close personal friend, he was giving up on realism in the universe for the day. Charles silently resolved not to tell Erik about Hank for the forseeable future.

Raven grinned. “Shouldn’t you be in your dungeon, freshening up the mildew before dinner, Charles?”

Charles narrowed his eyes at her as she reached out to link her arm through Erik’s, steering him in the direction of the portrait of the Fat Lady in the distance. “You had better give him back.”

“Am I required to be present for this argument, or would you prefer it if I were elsewhere?” Erik rolled his eyes.

Raven’s grin widened. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”


	2. I Am Shocked! Shocked!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cheer up. At least we haven’t begun making protest signs and camping out in front of the Headmaster’s office demanding equal representation for Hanukkah decorations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to consolidate this into a chaptered work rather than a series, sorry for any confusion!

“I’m not sure why we even call any of this Christmas at all, is all I’m saying.” Charles propped his chin on his hand and turned to watch where Professor Flitwick appeared to be floating in midair again, seeing to more of the brilliant decorations around the Great Hall. “I mean, they were all our pagan traditions, before the Catholic church walked off with them, weren’t they? And now the wizarding community insists on celebrating Christmas every year even though I’m fairly certain a large proportion of them have never set foot in a church?”

“Not this again, Charles.” Raven groaned, setting her head on her book with a thunk. “Give it a rest. Please.”

Erik, sitting across from him, let out a snicker. “He does raise a point I had not considered up until now… why is it Christmas which must be celebrated? And why _only_ Christmas? Perhaps I am being discriminated against.”

“There, you see, Raven? You hadn’t even considered Erik’s feelings.”

“I’ll consider Erik’s feelings when Erik stops being an insufferable arse about his feelings. I can’t believe I thought that the two of you weren’t going to drive me round the bend.”

Erik raised his eyebrows in such a terrible impression of an innocent expression at that exact moment that Charles burst out laughing, leaning over to pat his sister’s currently candy-cane striped hair gently. “Cheer up. At least we haven’t begun making protest signs and camping out in front of the Headmaster’s office demanding equal representation for Hanukkah decorations. Christmas should by all rights be the pagan holiday of Yule and called such, but wizards frequently insist on defying logic in favor of relying on pointless tradition.”

From her slumped-over position, Raven lifted a finger. “Do. Not. Give. Him. Ideas. He’s been here a week and I can already tell that you’re not allowed to do that, because he might do it!”

Erik shot him a sidelong glance, eyebrows rising further. He was already imagining the look on Dumbledore’s face, met with the sight of them and whatever handful of the Ravenclaw contingent they could muster to join them forming this protest line outside his office door. “We could. It would be very, very funny. I could make the signs and you could write the chants, your English is less stiff.” 

Another groan. “I give up. I disown you both.”

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he grinned. “You would never. You’d miss my charm and dashing good looks. I’d come back and you’d be wasted away to practically nothing.”

“I’d be incredibly well-rested.”

Charles clutched at his chest, mock-swooning as though he’d been fatally wounded, only to misjudge his balance and topple backward off the bench to the floor. For a moment, all he could focus on was how the air had been knocked from his lungs, but then he came back to reality – and Raven’s howls of laughter from above him, along with a distinct spike of alarm from across the table.

Feet dropping down in front of him signaled that Erik had, in fact, slid all the way across it just to reach him. “Are you all right, Charles?”

Taking the hand he was offered up, he smiled and nodded. “The only thing that’s bruised is my dignity. Shut up, Raven, you’re the one who said you wouldn’t miss me if I were gone, this is your doing – stop laughing!” And with that, he picked up a piece of parchment, balled it up, and tossed it at her head.

“You’re such a lunatic!” Reaching up to grab him by the collar and yank him down, she hissed in his ear, “And if you spent half the time you did flirting with the hot German you’re practically glued to by now also paying attention to the rest of the universe, maybe I wouldn’t have so much material to mock you with. I’m just saying.”

Charles narrowed his eyes. “I’m giving you a fireplace log wrapped in newspaper this year. _And._ We’re going to go protest.” He turned, tugging on Erik’s sleeve to indicate a direction to walk, and led the march away from Raven. “The good news about any chants we devise, of course, is that right off the bat ‘Yule’, ‘School’, and ‘Shul’ all rhyme, so I think this looks promising...”

 Erik snorted in laughter as he followed. “I think you are a bad influence.”

“All Slytherins are, according to the welcome packet they handed out on Day One. We’re all apparently conniving, evil fiends who eventually go into the Dark Arts or else become minions for other evil tyrants. Not much of a selection of career prospects for a house whose specialty is ambition, if you asked me...” Charles offered him an answering grin, stepping out into the Entrance Hall and stretching.

“Ah. I see. So your evil plan is what, to seduce me into amusing a crazy old man who probably does not know what Hanukkah is to begin with?”

“If I told you that, it wouldn’t be an evil plan.”

A smirk curling the edge of his mouth, Erik started up the stairs. “So what are the career prospects for the house of lunatic adventurers and obnoxious braggards? Must we all grow up to be heroes with overblown egos, or go into athletics of some kind? None of it sounds like much fun to me. Perhaps I could petition.”

Pausing in his stride, Charles turned to study him sidelong, catching the thought which slid past him about how if no one informed you of a rule, it was not technically breaking one. And that if there was no rule in place announced to break, then all the better. “Are you sure you weren’t meant to be a Slytherin?”

With an equally measured pause, Erik reached out to carefully unwind the tie from around Charles’s neck. He found himself holding his breath for a moment too long, catching something warm in the amusement coming from the other boy’s mind, until Erik held the tie up against his own skin tone to consider and shook his head. “No. I would look terrible in this shade of green, I am not spending a year and a half wearing it. You can be the Slytherin. I’ll wear red.”

 Exhaling laughter, he accepted the tie back when it was offered, feeling the brush of Erik’s fingertips blaze momentarily against his own. “I’m quite certain that’s not how it works.”

“Why not? It seems as logical as anything else wizards do. You have no system of credit for your banking, which is run by oppressed creatures who frankly could overthrow you at any moment since they control all of your money and make me deeply uncomfortable as a Jew… you use quills and ink, when the pencil was invented a very long time ago. Or the fountain pen, if mechanical parts are so very resistant to magic. And why does no one attempt to use kerosene lamps instead of torches, if not electricity? You see. Logic.”

Charles blinked, trying to work through a sudden logical problem of his own, but he was grinning at the rant all the same. “How were you at Durmstrang, if you were so outside the magical world, Erik?”

“My mother was a Squib.” There was a sudden brief, perfect image of her face in Erik’s mind, and then another memory, one much darker, full of green light and agony. “Do not ask. Please.”

Charles leaned up slightly and wound his tie around Erik’s neck, regardless of his earlier protests about green and how it wouldn’t suit him. “All right, I won’t. I can tell you that when I first got here I wondered how so many of my housemates knew nothing about science, if you’d like that better. I asked one boy if he knew what gravity was, and when he said he didn’t, I told him it _was_ just a theory.”

Sea-glass eyes considered him, without their usual wary distance from the world. This close, and perhaps because of the conversation, there was something warm there, even before the smile which found its way onto Erik’s face and lit them further, turning them up at the corners. With just as measured a motion as he had done it before, he reached up and undid his own tie this time, draping it around Charles’s neck. “Are you sure you _were_ meant to be a Slytherin?”

“There’s more to me than meets the eye, my friend.”

“Of that, I have absolutely no doubt.” Erik’s smile widened. “But you are also very concerned with taking care of me for a conniving, evil fiend.”

 “And you’re really quite wickedly intellectual for an obnoxious, lunatic adventurer.”

His hands were closing on the ends of the tie he’d wrapped around Charles’s neck before Charles himself quite realized what was happening, but when Erik leaned down so that they were nose to nose, he stopped breathing entirely. “We have something entirely in common, then, wouldn’t you say? Our wicked natures, Charles.”

 A smirk formed, finally, on Charles’s lips. “Oh, absolutely. We’re two of a kind.”


	3. It Was True Every Single Time

The return of students to the castle brought with it a cacophony of noise. It was only half as bad for Raven to adjust to as it was for Charles, as always, but he was largely content to ignore his headache in favor of making his way up to the Great Hall to greet returning classmates. If the pounding in his temples as hundreds of thoughts washed over him again got to be too much after such solitude, he could always make his way to the Hospital Wing.

To his surprise, the sweeping blue-haired figure of his sister was accompanied down the stairs by none other than Erik, albeit at a slightly slower pace. Raven wasted no time hurtling herself in the direction of several returning friends, while Erik made his way over to flank him, thoughts buzzing with a faint hum of amusement. In this crowd, it was impossible to make out anything more distinct, not until he re-acclimated.

“Is it always so loud?”

Charles blinked, uncertain for a moment whether the question had been asked out loud or in his mind, before turning. “Oh, no. I promise you. Sometimes it’s much louder than this.”

“That is immensely comforting.” Erik snorted.

“There you are!” A familiar voice called out to him, accompanied by a sudden burst of joy, and images of several other startled faces who had been the victims of mistaken identity first. “Charles! I’ve been looking everywhere!” Darting through the crowd, Hank crossed to him and offered a one-armed hug, shifting in a way that suggested one side of his ribcage might be a bit bruised.

At his side, Erik’s gaze narrowed, as though he were following this, or perhaps he was following the edge of a bandage which peered out from under the edge of one sleeve.

“Have you found Raven yet?” Charles asked, disentangling himself and grinning at him as Hank adjusted his glasses, dusting them off on his shirt a moment later.

“I’ll try later, probably. There’s a line to greet her right now, as it is – you know how it gets. So who’s this? I didn’t think Hogwarts took late transfers.”

“This is Erik Lehnsherr, came down from Durmstrang. Special circumstances. Erik, this is Hank McCoy.” He eyed Hank, for just a moment, enough to drive home the point that these _circumstances_ were at the very least intensely personal. For someone like Hank, that would be enough to avoid questions about what kind of circumstances had led to said transfer.

“How d’you like it here so far, then, Erik?” Hank asked, sidestepping the subject altogether, the hum of his curiosity swiftly repressed in the name of kindness.

“It is much warmer here. I think that I could have spent much of my time studying rather than fearing frostbite had I simply come here to begin with.” There was the quirk of a smile at the edge of Erik’s mouth, though his gaze had flicked to Charles rather than to Hank as he said it. “I am adjusting.”

“If you ever need help, let me know! I know the library backwards and forwards.” Hank beamed. “I keep threatening to move in and start a colony on top of the bookshelves, since there’s no specific school rule against it.”

Charles smirked. “That’s your logic for a lot of things, Hank.”

“Oh, like you don’t do the same. You’re a Slytherin, aren’t you? Rule-bending’s practically your middle name.” Hank jostled his shoulder, amusement pouring off him in waves.

“My middle name is Francis, thank you so much.” He sniffed.

Something about Erik’s thoughts had gone _off_ , almost brittle, though Charles couldn’t pick out what, not in this din. All he knew was that suddenly, the other boy was stepping away from them and offering an apology. “I should gather my things, but I will see you later. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Watching him hurry off, Charles blinked, and turned to Hank. “He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I’m not so sure about that… but he is right, we should get going.” Hank clapped him on the back. “Tell me everything later, all right?”

By breakfast, at least, Erik seemed to have recovered from his strange cold spell, and was even bold enough to march over to the Slytherin table, sliding into a seat beside Charles. The one on the other side of him was already occupied by Raven, creating a rather striking contrast.

“ _Charles,_ ” Angel drawled, eyeing him across the platter of toast, “The Gryffindor infestation is spreading, can’t you do something about it?”

In his seat, Erik stiffened, gaze lifting to pin her in place. Suddenly, his eyes had gone pale as chipped ice, voice glacial as he snarled, “ _Infestation?”_

This, Charles sensed, was the worst possible word Angel could have used. There were images tumbling through Erik’s mind, loudly enough that even in the Great Hall he could pick them out. One in particular caught his attention – a woman pulling a piece of cloth out of a drawer and pressing it into her a little boy’s hand while she wept, obviously Erik’s mother. It was a six-pointed yellow star.

“Angel. You want to apologize, now, or we’re both going to hex you for referring to the _Jewish student_ as part of an infestation. Am I clear?” He smiled, broadly, and set his fork down.

“Merlin. I’m sorry.”

“Very good. Now kindly shut up.” With that, Charles resumed eating, passing a smile sidelong to Erik, who very slowly untensed, and offered an appreciative look. He could feel the gratitude pouring off the other boy, sensing that he couldn’t have put it into words without overflowing in anger.

Afterward, he strolled into the Common Room to find a group of his fellow students arrayed in front of the fireplace, discussing something amongst themselves in low voices.

“What are we all talking about?” Charles slid calmly into a seat in the circle of gossipers, beaming when they all jumped as one. Given how fast word traveled, he’d wager that the incident at breakfast had already reached their ears, and was now all the rage, as subjects went.

“Your new friend!” One girl attempted, bravely. “He seems... intriguing, doesn’t he?”

“Oh yes. Very.” He steepled his fingers and leaned forward. “You’ve all had five and a half years to get to know me, yes? And those have been wonderful times. I’d walk through fire for some of you. In some cases I already have.”

Sliding his gaze sidelong, he eyed one boy two years below him who shifted in his seat and smiled, tentative, recalling an incident with an exploding cauldron in his mind’s eye.

“But do any of you doubt that, if you continue to spread these rumors about Erik Lehnsherr, I won’t find out and wake you up in the middle of the night with something nasty when you least expect it?”

Every single face, and mind, told Charles the same thing: No. They didn’t doubt him one bit.

“Good!” He offered them all his widest, most affable smile and got to his feet, brushing off his robes as he did so. “I’m so glad we could all clear that up. I hope you all have a lovely afternoon.”

One thing was for certain, he thought, climbing the stairs out of the dungeon: Things had been much simpler when he’d been able to keep Erik to himself.


End file.
